


Knowing

by ostensible_pith (something_pithy)



Category: Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Angst, Banter, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Probably not canon compliant because I wrote it before all the books were out, Reposting shit from eight years ago YOLO, Romance, Sexytimes but no smut :3, The only thing about these books I kinda loved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-13 00:46:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5688115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/something_pithy/pseuds/ostensible_pith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Snippets of Alice and Jasper's relationship past - they meet, they love, they struggle with what is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Knowing

**Author's Note:**

> Uh, so... I actually am not a fan of _Twilight_ , but funny story.
> 
> I wrote this little thing back in early 2008 on livejournal. 
> 
> I did actually read most of the books, and at the time the books were coming out, I was really intrigued by Alice and Jasper. This led to a very brief fic moment, which first appeared on livejournal and is now presented to you here because some delightful anonymous soul commented on the story and reminded me of its existence.
> 
> It's probably not canon-compliant, because I didn't care about that when I wrote it and I definitely didn't correct it if/when more canonical information became available about these two. I've made a few edits to make it more historically accurate, but other than that, it's pretty much as it was when I first posted it.
> 
> So enjoy? LOL

_Before_  
  
Alice loved Philadelphia. She had since the first time she’d seen it, years before this, her first visit to it. Her energy had been boundless, as always, but even more frenetic than usual. It wasn’t hard to know exactly _when_ to be at the diner, and she knew from past experience that it was a mistake to show up too early to an event – it only made the waiting seem that much longer. But she couldn’t help it.  
  
Again, she looked at her reflection in the window, catching the silhouette of the pretty new dress she wore, and her short, dark curls perfectly in place. Logic dictated that this didn’t matter – that she could be wearing a burlap sack, and it would still be perfect.  
  
But Alice had been waiting too long not to make an occasion out of it, even if just in her clothes.  
  
She crossed her legs once, twice – was thinking about crossing and uncrossing them again when the bell jangled over the door, and her face snapped left, topaz eyes shining as a brilliant, open smile blossomed on her face. The expression made her almost unbearably luminous to the patrons there as she hopped off the stool and walked right up to him.  
  
His body was tense, his eyes at first surprised, then immediately wary. But he knew, he _knew_ , even if he didn’t really know yet. He let her approach, and she did, without hesitation or worry.  
  
He was more handsome than she could have seen in her mind’s eye, not that it mattered, except for making her smile wider that he was so lovely.  
  
”You’ve kept me waiting a long time,” she said, still smiling, a bit of a tease, maybe, in her voice.  
  
And he ducked his head, and spoke in a deep, slow, Southern drawl,  
  
”I’m sorry, ma’am.”  
  
His voice was... how could she have known it would sound like _that_? Delighted, excited, with an unfamiliar but wholly welcome madness bombarding the inside of her ribcage, she extended her small hand to him, open and welcoming, and he took it in his, dwarfing it with the size of his own. She looked up into his face, still smiling, laced her fingers with his, and pulled him into her world.  
  
***  
  
_1930’s_  
  
He was fast.  
  
They all were.  
  
And normally, it was a close race between Alice and Jasper. Edward was the fastest, and Jasper close to him – but Alice was so tiny, she almost didn’t touch the ground. Not nearly as strong as either of them, but in speed?  
  
She could keep up.  
  
It had been a flicker – nothing but a flicker – but it was him, him nowhere, him nothing, invisible to her, and gone from her life forever.  
  
It was a second, just a second, but it had been enough to spike fear and pain so vicious that it tore through her like poisoned fire.  
  
Jasper was running hard, but Alice was running harder. He was running like his shame was chasing him, but she was running like her life was escaping her.  
  
She could see him now – so close, so close. She pushed harder, and it was starting to hurt – everything around them was just a blur, the scenery unimportant, because they weren’t there yet.  
  
The thought made her faster, gave her the extra edge to overtake him. Pushing off the ground, she hurled herself at his back.  
  
But he heard her coming, of course – heard her coming, and plucked her out of the air like a doll, though her velocity sent them both tumbling to the earth. He’d cushioned her fall with his own, so she was on top of him, held tightly in his arms. His eyes were darkest black, glittering up at her in fury.  
  
“Alice,” he said harshly, though his hold on her didn’t loosen.  
  
“No.” She spoke not harshly, but no less firmly, her hands sliding to his shoulders. “You don’t leave, Jasper Hale. You don’t leave, you promised.”  
  
Her own amber eyes searched his, looking for his memory of the promise. He was looking at her in some kind of shock, as though she couldn’t understand what she was saying. When he spoke, his voice was full of rock salt grit, but it was quiet.  
  
”I wasn’t leaving,” he said. “I just needed...”  
  
”You _were_ leaving. What do you think happens when you tempt them at the border? What do you think happens when you taunt them?” she asked.  
  
He closed his eyes and leaned his head back. The naked fear in her eyes shamed him, and he didn’t want to see it. The disappointment was doubled – not only was he weak, but there was _her_.  
  
_Her_.  
  
The only thing worth keeping on for, the only thing worth even trying his hand at this existence for, and he hurt her. She was good – she covered it better than anyone, those aches, those cuts when he was harsh on himself, when he was disgusted. He held her more tightly. She was scared – really scared, and he’d done it to her by trying his luck. By trying to take himself out of the equation. He really believed she’d be better off that way – but he knew better than to try to tell her that. And now, with the light of her shining so close to him, his resolve weakened.  
  
”Look at me,” she demanded. He opened his eyes, looking at her with an inscrutable expression.  
  
”I don’t want any of this hero crap,” she said. “I don’t want a noble, tragic, Byronic hero. I don’t want it! You can brood if you want to; you can be stoic and cross your arms over your chest and grit your teeth and look hard at everyone who crosses your path, if you want. But you _cannot_ walk away into the shadows, you can’t walk away from _me_ , do you hear me?” Her voice was rising – not so much in volume as in intensity, her words running closer together and turning into almost a hiss.  
  
There was nothing for him to say. She knew all the reasons he’d left – control had been so close to being lost today. It had taken Emmett, Edward, _and_ Carlisle to hold him back; he remembered how his face felt, lips pulled back over his teeth, growls ripping out of the bottom of his chest, fury pumping through him like blood or adrenaline. And her face – her face, stricken and afraid – not of him, for him – and he knew he couldn’t do this anymore. He was going to fuck it all up royally one day, and she would be the one to feel it worst, beside him. Sometimes he thought she’d feel it worse than him.  
  
He couldn’t do that to her.  
  
But she knew all this, too. She knew all this, and she was here now not to tell him she knew and that he was wrong, but to show him. Just her being here was comment enough on her opinion of his thoughts. But she was _wrong_. She just loved him too much. She didn’t understand the shame, the fear...  
  
She leaned down and whispered in his ear.  
  
”Don’t be chicken, Jasper Hale. Don’t be. It’s hard for all of us, in different ways.”  
  
Her voice was even softer now.  
  
”You can’t leave us. You can’t leave me. The world gave you to me – I won’t give you up.”  
  
It was a one-two punch. First, calling him a coward, getting his hackles up, his body stiffening at her words, his jaw tightening. Coward. It wouldn’t have burned so much if there weren’t something to it, would it?  
  
But before he could process it fully, her next words followed, and he shook his head, pulling her tighter, though his frame didn’t lose its tension. Her head rested against his chest, and her small fingers stroked the skin of his throat.  
  
”I’ll go with you,” she whispered softly. “I’ll go with you anywhere. Everywhere.”  
  
Jasper held her closer than he thought was possible. It wasn’t done. It wasn’t resolved. It couldn’t be right, this. He wasn’t like the rest of them. He was out of control, he was more monster than any of them. But she wouldn’t let him go, would she? She’d hold on with both hands until he turned to dust.  
  
He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how to leave her, no matter how convinced he might be right now that it would be better.  
  
So instead, they stayed there. For days and nights, maybe – for minutes and hours, maybe. But they stayed there, wrapped in each other’s arms, her face in the crook of his neck, silently, almost desperately waiting for this to get easier.  
  
***  
  
_1941_  
  
It was funny, to Jasper, how Alice’s enthusiasm translated to their more intimate moments.  
  
It was always private – they barely touched in front of other people – but behind closed doors was a completely different story.  
  
_They_ had a bed, the rest be damned.  
  
They’d only kissed and touched so far – a fact that surprised Jasper. Alice was so fervent, so passionate, that it was starting to get a little strange to him that they hadn’t actually been together in that sense yet. Granted, the urges weren’t the same in death, but you’d never know it by watching, touching, or listening to Alice Cullen when they were alone together. (Or, for that matter, by watching Jasper Hale when they were alone together.)  
  
He’d been with other women, before he’d changed and after, but he’d never felt the kind of burning desire for any of them that he felt for _her_.  
  
It wasn’t all the time that they were like this. Logistics were just easier when they’d just fed, and that was most often when they were like this – all over each other, unable to stop.  
  
Until they did.  
  
For some reason, something always interrupted before things got to a certain point – something always happened.  
  
It wasn’t for a while that Jasper started to suspect that given Alice’s abilities, this might not be completely coincidental.  
  
This time, when Edward came home and Alice’s eyes widened just before she tried to roll off of Jasper, back onto her side of the bed, he pulled her tiny little body back onto him, looking into her eyes. Her breathing was rapid, her pupils dilated, and her fingers curled into his shirt as her golden eyes looked back at him, exhilarated but a little panicked.  
  
He’d meant to ask her what was wrong, but seeing her that way only made him want to curl his fingers in her short, curly hair and kiss her – which is what he did. She was stiff against him at first – Edward had left the house, but was still outside, in the perimeter – but as Jasper’s lips moved over hers, she melted a little – a lot – against him. Then, it seemed as though she’d come to some kind of decision, and for the first time, she really dove in.  
  
The buttons of his shirt went everywhere as she yanked it open, trying to stay locked to his lips and straddled on his waist as she pulled it awkwardly off. He was so taken by surprise that he didn’t stop her when her shaking little hands (shaking?) fumbled with his belt, until finally the buckle broke away, and she pulled at the leather frantically, almost putting her eye out as it whipped out of the loops and toward her face. Jasper’s eyes widened at that point, and before she could tear her fingers to shreds trying to undo the fly of his pants, he grabbed her hands and pulled her down to him, sending a swell of calm through her as he rolled them onto their sides, and he looked into her eyes.  
  
“Hey,” he smiled at her, bringing his hand up to her temple and smoothing back her hair. Funny, how he didn’t mind it short; when women first started cutting their hair so short for fashion’s sake, Jasper hadn’t liked it. There was something to a long, flowing head of hair on a woman that appealed. But his girl had kept her hair short – always in style to the age, of course – since they’d met, and he found it suited her just fine. He leaned forward and gave her a kiss to soothe that panic that had shown up in her eyes again.  
  
She was silent, though – the worry and uncertainty radiating off her in waves.  
  
“We don’t have to do this, y’know,” he said softly, still smiling.  
  
Alice frowned.  
  
”I _want_ to do this,” she protested. “We’re _going_ to do this.”  
  
Jasper bit back a grin at the fierce certainty of his little firecracker.  
  
”Don’t you laugh at me, Jasper Hale!” she frowned at him fiercely, poking a finger at his hard chest. And that was what made the grin come out in full force.  
  
”Aw, sweetheart,” he said, pulling her close to him and kissing her forehead. “I’m not laughing at you. You’re just so damn cute.”  
  
Alice was still stiff in his arms, frowning against his collarbone, but not trying to pull away.  
  
”I’m not supposed to be cute,” she mumbled against his throat. “I’m supposed to be _sexy_.”  
  
It was hard not to make this worse by laughing at the pout he knew she had on her face, but he resisted.  
  
“Well, baby, when you’re tryin’ to whip your eye out with my belt...”  
  
Now she shoved at him lightly – not hard enough to indicate that she wanted out of his embrace, but enough to look up at him with a frown.  
  
”Well, it’s not like I’ve ever done this before – I’m just making it up as I go along!”  
  
That stopped him, and he looked at her – really looked at her. Behind the frustration and annoyance that he felt swirling around her, under the surface and much deeper, his little Alice was almost paralytically nervous, uncertain, and self-conscious. She ducked her head, hiding her face from him as she sensed what he was up to.  
  
It shouldn’t have surprised him. If Alice had done this during her human life, she wouldn’t remember it. And there was no real reason for her to have done it as a vampire – it wasn’t the kind of physical urge existed in humans. It could be just as (if not more) pleasurable, but the _need_ wasn’t there.  
  
Besides, she’d been waiting for _him_.  
  
That thought made him smile a little cockily before he tilted his head toward her face, slowly trailing kisses – lips, tongue, teeth – up her jawline, her neck, until his mouth was next to her ear.  
  
“You are very sexy,” he murmured in his slow, deep drawl against her skin, enjoying the shudder and the wave of palpable desire that rolled off of her as his breath touched her.  
  
As she slid her arms around his neck, and she whispered against him,  
  
” _You’re_ very sexy.”  
  
He grinned again before sliding his fingers to her chin, tipping her face up to his, and kissing her. It was kind of funny to him, and definitely strange, the ways their knowledge worked. Alice always had a sense of wisdom about her – even under her exuberant, social butterfly surface, there was always this deep insight, and not just because of being able to see the future. But there were so many things she just didn’t know, that she’d never experienced – and he felt like he’d experienced so much. Most times, he was charmed by (sometimes grateful for) the innocence that the blank slate before her change had preserved in her. He didn’t want Alice to ever know what a battlefield was like, what it was to kill brutally, ruthlessly and viciously, for no other reason than conquest.  
  
But this was one of those moments when he could show her something she hadn’t known before – show her something she’d missed out on, had been missing out on.  
  
She’d been kissing him back fervently again, her enthusiasm pushing her against him, and he could feel her fingers clench at the back of his neck, feel her uncertainty rising again, her frustration at _not knowing_ , at not knowing what to do. He whispered against her lips,  
  
”Why don’t you let me take the lead this time, darlin’? You can have next.”  
  
She eased against him at his words even before he sent out the wave of calm to soothe her, and he nudged her onto her back, still kissing her, before he slowly began to unbutton her blouse, to show her what she’d been missing.

**Author's Note:**

> I has a tumblr! something_pithy :)
> 
> This was originally posted on February 16, 2008 on my now-defunct livejournal: http://ostensible_pith.livejournal.com


End file.
